St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1887-02-10
G1te GaIedumialt.
WAS FAITHFUL.
Erom MID Aanake

ooh the poor cashier! wasn't 1t ;
shame that he had to tell J" exclaimed
Milly, who was listening breathless tC
the story uncle Joe was telling mamma
of what lie had read in the morning pa
per.
ale did not have to tell, Milly,'
said uncle Joe, very gently. "FOl
though nobody would have blamed
him for telling when his life was
threatened, he didn't tell. He haC
been left to guard other peoples mon
ey in the big safe, and he would moi
betray his trust, though none of the
people whose money was there would
have expected or wished him to sacri-
flee his life for it, He didn't tell"
"But what did he do, Uncle Joe 7"
ale was shot"
40 Joe how terriblem exclaimed
mamma, her face white with the hOr-
ror of it. But Milly's eyes shOne.
40 Uncle Joe what splendid
splendid man | would give anything
to do something as good as that !"
"Perhaps when | grow up" said six
years old Harold, who was listening,
too, 81 shall be cashier and take care
of peoples money like that !"
EYES," said Milly, mournfully. "Per-
haps You will, for you will be man.
But | shall never have chance. Pm
only a girl. | can't even earn any
money!" she added plaintively.
go yes, you can earn money" said
Uncle Joe, anxious to brighten up the
scene little. ~ came over this
morning on purpose to see if you and
Harold didn't want to herd my sheep
for me. Henry is going to leave next
week and | don't know where to turn
for herder. If you and Harold like
to try it, Milly, will give you so a
month, the same that | gave Henry"
81 really think they might do it,
Ellen" he added, turning to mamma,
who looked little doubtful at the idea
of six year-old Harold and eight-year-
old Milly undertaking the care of 300
sheep all day.
The children were so eager to try
that at last mamma consented. For it
was beautiful weather just then out on
the Western prairie, and hardly time
for lessons to begin. The children
were really restless for something to
do, and it would do them no harm to
feel that they were beginning to be
what every one ought to be in some
form or anOther-a worker.
And so they began looking after I'm
Gle Joe's herd. 1t may seem to you a
very simple and easy thing to do, just
to watch flock of sheep-silly, slow
things that they are-nibbling away
at the short grass cOntentedly and
seeming to move about such Il little
way. But in reality they move faster
than you think, and when they are in
large mass together, it is hard for
even two people to keep both ends of
the herd out of mischief. For they
must not stray too far away, and of all
things they must not get into the
neighbors' corn! | have known strong
young men to come back at night from
watching a flock of sheep fOOtsOre.
But it was pleasant out on the beau
tiful flower strewn prairie, and Milly
and Harold were both used to running,
and with the thought of the precious
SO at the end of the month, their lit
tie faces kept bright and their little
hearts undaunted. Milly, it is true,
was getting just little tired for Har-
old was so little, and could not always
understand why he must run whether
he was tired or not, and she knew she
must not expect him to be very con-
scientiOus about it. OF course, she I'M
derstOOd it; she was eight that was
old enough to understand that one
mustn't he tired if one has promised to
do anything and she would not for
the world disappOint what Uncle Joe
and mamma expected of her. Uncle
Joe had trusted her, and mamma had
let her and there would be $40 by and
by.
But one day she did feel very tired.
1t was very warm, and she thought it
would rest her ever so much just to sit
down few minutes and take off her
shoes and stockings. The sheep were
very quiet and did not look as if they
were moving Il bit. There was no tree
that she could lie down under, but it
was so nice just to sit still a few min
utes and take off her tight shoes and
stockings.
But all at once she saw that the
sheep at the other end of the herd
were making slowly but very steadily
for Mr.. Wintield's corn. For Mr.. Win
fields corn that would be the worst of
all. 1t was bad enough when the
sheep strayed off on the prairie and
they had to run so far and so fast to
head them off, with all the distance to
walk back again; but if they got into
somebody else's corn? Oh, dear
what should she do "Run, Harold,
run !"
But little Harold was tired and NOV
ed on very slowly. OF course, he was
only six How could he understand
what Mr.. Winfield would say and think
if they should let Uncle JOe's sheep
trample his cOrni She was eight, and
of course she understood
In Il second she was skimming over
the prairie in her bare feet, seeing
nothing, hearing nothing, feeling moth
ing intent only on saving Mr.. Win
fields corn. Of course she saved it
and turned the naughty sheep toward
home again; only when she had done
that did she become conscious not only
that she was out of breath and very
warm and tired, but that something
hurt her.
go, HarOldIn she exclaimed, as she
sank down on the grass, "I'm afraid
can't walk I"
Do you know what a cOckle-b bur is Z
Perhaps some time you have felt one
in the grass prick through even your
dainty little boot. If you have, am
very sure that you sat down at once,
with tears in your eyes even if you
were brave enough not to let them fall,
and pulled out the bur and took off the
dainty boot to be sure no "prickers"
had been left in the tender flesh, and
rested the little foot and limped care
fully home to be sympathized with
most tenderly by all who know what
disagreeable thing cockle-bur is.
This little girl had run barefoot over a
strip of ground that was full of them,
and had not even known it while the
neighbours corn was i'm danger! AS
she said herself, when at last they got
her hAna nd her. n II with To-,